


Visiting the families

by Arcadian_Skye



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fluff, Modern Fantasy, Mostly Fluff, The Wax Phoenix Project, emotional manipulation if you squint, mind magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-07 22:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13444773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcadian_Skye/pseuds/Arcadian_Skye
Summary: They thought they were prepared to meet the other's family. They were both wrong in different ways.





	1. Alex's Family

When I asked Lexi if she wanted to see my family for Independence Day, I wasn’t expecting her to actually say yes. She is every inch the New Yorker woman, and I am almost positive she’s never left the New England area. Richmond suburb or not, I assumed Virginia would be nowhere near her interests. Yet, there she was, stopped in the middle of the New Haven sidewalk, one hand on her hip and a perfectly manicured eyebrow lifted in a subtle challenge. Her wine painted lips were curved into a smirk as if she knew I was expecting a no and was daring me to backtrack. She should have known by now I enjoy proving her wrong, and watching her attempt to adjust to middle-class Virginia would be comical anyway.

Alexandra Carbonell possessed an uncommon dissonance. I knew enough about her to know she disliked talking about how she grew up, but something about it made her both weak and strong in different ways. Her wit was as sharp as a knife, and her mind more intelligent than anyone I've ever known. She was exceptionally ruthless in her rationale, almost sociopathic, but it existed as a shield designed to be readily extended to others. Her personality was all sharp edges, and yet she was so very soft in other ways. She didn’t know how to let others help her, and affection was more often than not an alien concept to her. She was prey in predator clothing, so to speak.

Even her appearance possessed a certain disparity. She was obviously Italian, all black hair, regal cheekbones, and effortlessly bronze skin. Typically, she was impeccably well dressed if out in public, but today she was casually decked out in blue jeans and a simple black fitted t-shirt. Her bright blue contacts provided a striking juxtaposition to everything else she was, covered in so many darker colors. Her attractiveness even contrasted the current weather. New Haven was set under a depressing grey sky, and the slate grey and red brick buildings were doing little to brighten the city against the dreary sky. Nonetheless, the breeze provided a pleasant reprieve from the hot humidity permeating the air.

I forced a broad but still genuine smile, “Well then! I’ll get in contact with my parents.” I started walking past her and a small laugh huffed past my lips at the concerned look spreading across her face. “My sister would love to meet you, and I’m sure you’ll prefer the sun over this overcast sky.” I heard the clack of her wedge sandals following me and knew she was going to rise to the challenge. She would have objected already otherwise.

“I already know my parents are working, so it’s not like I have anywhere else to be,” she affirmed my suspicion with her silvery voice. I could see her pull up next to me. Her shoulder length hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and had lightened to a dark chocolate from its typical black velvet under the harsh summer we have suffered through this year.

I turned my head slightly and briefly looked her up and down. “I’m not sure the designer jeans and blouse will cut it if we go hiking though.” Her steps faltered briefly, and I couldn’t help but continue to push her. “Never been hiking? There’s all sorts of gorgeous trails. I like the city, but the rustle of leaves in a forest will always pale in comparison to these cold grey high risers.” We were approaching her apartment now, and I didn’t want to give her a chance to back out before we parted ways. Besides, this unspoken competition we were having was too amusing to back off; my smile was glued to my face.

She responded with an air of mild combativeness, “Well. I’m always up for new experiences. This just means you’ll have to help me go shopping. After all, my city girl ways couldn’t possibly know how to prepare for southern fashion.”

Ah. Well that’s not what I intended and based off the return of her self-satisfied smile, she knew it. It wasn’t going to stop me though. I didn’t need to anticipate her; I simply needed to one-up when given the chance. I couldn’t help the smugness in my voice when I answered, “Of course! My fashion sense is impeccable. We could always wait till we get there though. Get some good ‘ol southern authenticity, and I know my sister would just die to go shopping with a woman other than her mother.”

She sped up enough to walk in front of me backwards, and her mischievous smile had alarms bells ringing in my head. With a lyrical lilt, she answered, “Before we go however, I am going to need to drop by my mother’s. We can fly out from the JFK airport and visit on the way.” She spun around and continued to walk ahead, her gait leaking a confidence that wasn’t there before. With a triumphant note, she continued, “Besides, if I’m meeting your family, it’s only fair you meet mine. Dad is always too busy, but I’m sure mother would be delighted to have us.”

I cringed. Yeah, she won that competition. Excitement to visit my family still existed, but that was now overshadowed in leaps and bounds by the terror inherent in meeting her family. If she took after her mom, this would be treacherous.

When July fourth came around we drove the hour to her mom’s place. It was one of the more relaxing things I’ve ever done with Lexi. The weather was pleasant, and the sky was a cool, calming blue. She let me drive which was a significant display of trust as she meticulously cared for her blue and white porsche. The leather was so soft it didn’t even creak, and it had every bell and whistle a car could possibly have (even though the neon light rimming her cupholders seemed excessive). She is normally a whirlwind of activity and seeing her being forced to slow down and wait patiently in the passenger’s seat was a novel experience. It brought out her softer, more genuine side. Perhaps the isolation in the car allowed her to let down her walls, or perhaps the weaving and passing traffic was hypnotic for her as she never stopped looking out the windows. The conversation was comfortable, and we were beginning to dig into deeper subjects when we left the interstate. At that point, the conversation switched gears, and she focused on giving clear directions to her mom’s place.

When she told me to pull over, I thought she was initially joking. We passed through a gate, but I assumed it was a gated community, not an entire estate solely for her family! We had pulled into a half-circle drive in front of what can only be described as a veritable mansion in New York’s center. I knew Alex had money from somewhere given she owned a freaking porsche and a penthouse apartment a street away from the school. This was beyond anything I could have predicted though. The building was all stone bricks and white siding clearly professional designed and at least four stories tall. The entryway had a small overhang and was lined with rosewood. The doors were probably a story tall themselves. We parked the car and climbed out, and I realized the front doors themselves probably cost more than my childhood home, covered in stained glass and jewels as they were. The entire building’s value was probably beyond my comprehension.

At some point, Alex had moved forward to open the door and was now looking back at me with an expression somewhere between amused and confused. I realized I had been standing there gawking at the building for at least a minute. I took a deep breath, picked my jaw up off the ground, and stepped through the doors.

The inside was just as, if not more, decadent than the outside. I immediately took off my shoes and sunk my toes into the exorbitantly plush white carpet. Looking around, I noticed directly above us was a balcony overlooking the two story tall room facing us. The back wall was almost entirely floor-to-ceiling windows which displayed a glistening lake behind an enormous back patio and inground swimming pool. Lexi was definitely sporting an amused smirk at this point and appeared to be waiting for me to get over my initial shock.

She shook her head at me and spoke, interrupting my reverie. “You can wait here in the front room. Make yourself at home.” She pointed over her shoulder to the right where a wide hallway was. “My mother’s office is down this way. Give me a few minutes. I’ll come get you in a moment.” With that, she turned around and walked down the hall. For some reason, she hadn’t bothered to take off her shoes. Was she that comfortable here? Was it an act of rebellion? I wasn’t sure but suddenly needed to know. With money like this, surely she grew up with everything she could have possibly wanted. I watched her walk down the hallway in her blue jeans (a different designer pair, I think) and white shirt with a fancy blue trim. She turned a corner into a room, and that broke my trance enough that I shook my head to refocus.

Now that I had a chance to explore and study the room, I noticed how terribly out of place I was in my old, (unfashionably) ripped blue jeans and faded green t-shirt covered in four leaf clovers (a gift from my little sister). There were a few couches and recliners in a half circle surrounding a television larger than I am tall (I’m only 5’10” but that’s beside the point). I trailed my fingers across the back of the taupe leather couch, and it was as soft as the leather in her car. The light brown walls were intermittently covered in shelves, but it still struck me as cold. Everything was designed in a way which was meant to be homey but came off as uncomfortable, calculated even. I was positive every single thing in here was picked and designed by a professional interior decorator. There were no creases in the couch representing years of use like at home. The carpet was immaculate, and I wondered how often people actually walked around this room. Did anyone even use the pool in the backyard? The vases looked entirely too expensive to have around children, and it occurred to me there was no way Alex would have been allowed to play in her own house growing up. I walked up to the windows and realized there was no playground in the backyard. What did she even do for fun growing up? Without other people in the room, it was large, empty and cold. I can’t imagine what that must feel like to a small child.

My thoughts were interrupted by Lexi’s unusually soft voice, and it occurred to me I had no idea how much time had actually passed while I explored. Then I realized she was forming actual words, and I tuned into what she was saying.

“-ne looking like a lost child, you can come with me now. Mother said she was willing to meet you.” She looked oddly demure, and that should have probably set off all sorts of alarms concerning what her mom was like.

“I… uh… yeah, okay.” I stuttered a moment, temporarily lost for words. I crossed the room to stand next to her and motioned down the hallway, “Lead the way.”

She offered a small smile, but her eyes held some emotion I couldn’t identify. Nonetheless, I followed her down the hallway. After a few (relatively) ornate wooden doors, we came to a room with jewel encrusted doors matching the entryway. Given how ornate yet empty the house looked so far, I didn’t know what to expect from her mom’s personal office.

I stepped through the doors, and my attention was immediately drawn to a small, perfectly dressed blonde woman standing behind a large wooden desk. She couldn't have been taller than 5’4” so Lexi didn’t inherit her 5 feet, 7 inches from her. Her short blonde hair was carefully styled to frame her face, and her thin lips were painted a blood red. Her red and black blouse hugged her curves tightly, and the collar was low enough that I would have an uncomfortable view if I were closer (considering this was her mother, ew no). I think she was wearing a black skirt, but she was short enough that her desk blocked that view. Her heavy, smoky eye shadow drew my eyes to her icy blue ones, and I stood straighter under her calculating glare. Her eyes narrowed when she looked me up and down, and the slight downward turn of her mouth felt like a judgment being passed.

Her eyes shifted to my left, and I realized Alex had followed me into the room, her hands folded into each other behind her back and looking straight ahead. With her attention turned toward Lexi, I took a moment to study the room properly. It was all modern, sharp edges with black and whites around the room. The white shelves lining the room held books covering various topics although the primary theme was fashion. I looked to my right and noticed the chairs were black with the same sharp edges and squares that come with the “modern look.” The only colors the room held were the dark wood of her desk and the red of her carpet and lighting (somehow, the same blood red as her lipstick). The entire room was larger than my studio apartment back in New Haven, and yet it was crowded despite the scarce furniture. The atmosphere was tense, and my attention was abruptly redirected to her mom.

She had started speaking, and her severe but tinny voice grated on every nerve I had. “Not good enough. Deal B stands then, and you best be prepared for it.”

Lexi’s response almost sounded mechanical in return, “Of course, Rosalind. I already agreed to that eventuality.” She addressed her mom by first name? What on earth was this mother-daughter relationship?

Her mom, Rosalind apparently, nodded and her lips curled upwards. It was nothing like a smile. “Very well then. You will fly under the Carbonell name. The Vanastroc name cannot afford to be associated with this low of a class. Nonetheless, I appreciate what you have proposed, and I think you could still be of use to my name as of yet. Follow through and I’ll start involving you more. I’ll call ahead to the airport and upgrade you to first class; Carbonell or not, I won’t have my daughter flying coach.”

“Excuse me?” I blurted out, and nearly regretted it. The sudden scowl on her mom’s face almost stopped me from continuing. Almost. “The flight is in two hours; there’s no way on earth you can upgrade it that quickly. I’m not delaying the trip to my family.” I had to grit my teeth against my tongue lashing out with how she said her _her daughter_ could be _of use_ , and how disgusting that was.

Rosalind’s expression (not her mom, I decided. I suddenly understood why Lexi always talked about her as mother and not mom) shifted to a more neutral expression before a smile crossed her face somewhere between sinister and approving. I suppressed the sudden urge to shudder.

“Some fight in him nonetheless.” Rosalind’s eyes shifted back to Lexi. “He could definitely be useful.” Her eyes returned to mine, and I didn’t even try to hide the scowl on my face. “Don’t worry about it, ah… Cody Hyun Ashton, correct? Your trip will not be delayed. You’re both dismissed. I need to work on organizing the next promotional event for Chic Faction.”

Alexandra nodded and turned around, keeping a carefully held neutral expression. I followed her out with a much less neutral expression and had to keep the shaking in my hands from my seething rage to a minimum. Silently, we returned to the car. She didn’t say a word as we pulled away, and I decided to keep quiet until my knuckles were no longer white against the steering wheel.

It had been maybe five minutes before I spluttered out, “What the actual hell? That’s not… she isn’t… what was that?” I was stuck somewhere between disbelief and indignant anger on Lexi’s behalf. That’s not how you treat any human being, let alone your daughter.

A sad smile crept along her face, and my irritation died down considerably. Quieter than I’ve ever heard her, she murmured “She’s my mother. She’s just… like that. I’m not sure how to describe it.” Her eyes slid to the right and stared out the window. It took me a moment to discern her gaze as longing. Did she know that’s what her face said? She looked back at me and the sad smile turned into something more akin to her typical smirk, although not quite there. “I figured you’d want to meet her. Assumed it would help you… understand some things. I’ll be getting some clarity about you in the next few days; it only seemed fair to return the favor to some small degree.”

My thoughts faltered and fumbled for a moment, and my brows creased. There were a handful of comments she just made I wanted to address. As evenly as I could manage at the moment, I started, “First off, we’re not… trading information here. Of course I appreciate you letting me see… that. To understand you better. But there isn’t a debt to be paid for visiting my family. I just… thought you’d like it? To get away, experience something new.” I kept looking straight ahead at the road. I wanted to word my thoughts carefully, and whatever expression she was wearing at the moment would derail me. “Second, is that… really where you grew up? Is your dad like that?” I glanced at her, and her head was down, hands folded in her lap.

“I lived there until my parents got divorced when I was 8. My dad’s place is a more typical size, and I lived with him ‘till I was 16 and went to Yale. And, he’s not like her. Not really. Steady as a rock, unbending on certain things like her, but more of a teddy bear in day to day actions. He’s always been sort of lost since… then.” She looked out the windshield then and toward the sky. “And of course I need to pay you back, your family back, for this. You didn’t have to invite me, and your family certainly doesn’t have to house me. Yet they intend to, want to, even. That is worthy of thanks.” A vulnerable smile had replaced the previous sadness, and she turned to look at me then. Study me, perhaps. I had the distinct feeling she was trying to figure out what I was thinking. There was a sudden tightness in my throat. Did she think I was going to argue with her? Reject her? Affection and understanding was something I thought I had down, was accustomed to expressing it at any moment with my sister, but in that moment, all the surety fled. I shook my head and let out a long sigh, ridding myself of the vestiges of my anger.

I looked at her for a moment and tried to sound comforting, abolishing any possible hint of a patronizing tone, “Lexi, just trust me when I say that isn’t necessary. And… thanks. For trusting me with that. Your house and mother, I mean.” We were quiet for a couple minutes then. I returned to watching the road, and she returned to staring out the window. The silence bugged me; there was something I was missing but couldn’t place. I decided to fill the silence, “So… what is Chic Fashion anyway?”

She huffed, and I wasn’t sure if it was a laugh or sigh. “Faction, not fashion. It’s her clothing company. Or rather, the family’s company, I suppose. Her side of the family isn’t fond of children, so I didn’t really meet them growing up. What few I did were just as uptight as her.” Well that explained the wealth, I supposed. With money like that, the company was probably significant. I never paid attention to what company made my clothing; all I cared about was if it fit.

We were about 15 minutes away from the airport at that point, and I decided she probably needed a distraction from whatever direction her thoughts were going (and they weren’t going anywhere good, based off her brooding expression). So, I rambled. Told her stories about my aunts and uncles, family reunions, vacations, and stupid stories from my childhood. It took a while for my temptation to hug her to die down; I knew she wouldn’t want it in her current state. When she returned with a few stories of her own childhood exploits, I counted it a success (expensive things were in fact broken, much to my amusement). I kept the rambling up all the way through the parking lot, check in, security (which we flew through. Her mom did, in fact, upgrade our status to fast track first class), through waiting to board, and the hour flight to Virginia. By the time we landed, her smile and sassy attitude had returned. I think she knew my returning smile was tinged with relief at her recovery. I didn’t need to be a herald of mind to see the gratitude in her eyes.

I followed Lexi’s lead to baggage claim, and mentally prepared myself to see my family. This was going to be a long couple of days. It had been a while since I last saw my family, and I knew they were going to be particularly clingy. There would also be a lot of translation going on between Alex and my family due to the vastly different cultural backgrounds. I was okay with that though. It would be good for Lexi to see genuine familial love, and it would probably be just as good for her to figure out how to adjust to something so very different from what she was accustomed to.


	2. Cody's Family

I don’t know what I expected Cody’s family to be like, but it certainly wasn’t… whatever was happening in front of me. There was a frail little tangle of limbs that practically tackled Cody on first sight. His mom and sister were waiting for us at baggage claim (his father was working ‘till late apparently, given it was now late afternoon). The airport was typical (typically tacky, that is). Swirling designs in the flooring, white and blue walls, and product placement everywhere. Naturally the airport was jam packed with holiday travelers, but his sister had somehow spotted him from across the airport. I grabbed his luggage and followed, since he ditched it to meet his sister part way for the tackle.

His little sister was an interesting study. Her honey brown hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, and her skin was a few shades lighter than my own natural tan. She was definitely darker than Cody, and she looked darker than her mom based off what little I could see from across the distance. Her white tank top, denim shorts, and tennis shoes exposed her limbs. She wasn’t skin and bones, but she was definitely thin enough to be concerning. It occurred to me Cody never told me her age, but she looked to be around 8.

Cody settled her on his hip (which she was entirely too big to be doing), and we continued weaving through the crowd to meet up with his mother. He was holding some quiet conversation with his sister, but it didn’t seem my place to listen in. His mother stood about 15 feet away from baggage claim, staring at her children with a sweet smile. Interesting. She was far more concerned with her own children than the newcomer following them. Her priority was her kids. As we walked within ten feet, her eyes shifted to look at me, and her eyes lit up. Why light up when seeing me? I shifted, leaving the carry-ons next to me and placing my hands behind my back. Cody set his sister down and moved to hug his mom.

“Hey mom. It’s been a while; it’s nice to see you,” Cody said cheerfully as he let her go.

“Codyyyyyyy, who’s your lady friend?” his sister exclaimed, hopping next to their mom. Cody spluttered for words for a moment, so I figured I’d save him from the embarrassment.

I closed the distance between myself and his mother, offering a hand, “Alexandra Justine Carbonell, it’s nice to meet you Mrs. Ashton.”

She shook my hand briefly before pulling me into a hug. Why was she hugging me? I think she sensed my confusion and let me go before I had a chance to force my brain into gear enough to return the hug. His mother’s voice sounded tired but held a certain charm, “Please, Fiona is fine. A friend of Cody’s is a friend of the family.”

His mother was probably an inch or so shorter than me, so roughly 5’6”. Her hair was a few shades darker than her daughter’s honey brown and hung in waves down her shoulders, partly pulled back into a half ponytail. Her bright blue eyes were framed in laugh lines, and her pale skin, while showing some signs of age, still possessed a youthful glow. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, but my eyes were still drawn to her delighted smile. Her pastel blue blouse hung a little loosely but matched her denim ankle length skirt well. She was wearing cute black flats, and she held an easy-going air around her. Mostly out of curiosity, I flicked out my magic to touch her mind. Despite my surprise, I managed to keep my expression in a cool smile. She was genuinely happy, even a little excited to meet me.

My examination of his mother was interrupted by the flounce of his sister suddenly bounding in front of me. Her voice chimed (but held a note of unnatural roughness?) as she smiled up at me. “Alexandra Justine is so stuffy. Alex is much better.”

Her mother gently reprimanded her, “Brianna! Alexandra is a beautiful name. You shouldn’t say something so negative to someone you just met.”

His sister ignored Fiona and rolled right on, “Cody talks about you a lot.”

Again, her mother interrupted her, “Introduce yourself properly now.”

“Oh right!” she did a sloppy curtsy before straightening up to rock back and forth on her heels. “IIII’m Brianna Nari Ashton, and I’m eleven years old! My favorite color is glitter, and your shirt is super cute.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm, which she apparently took offense to as she immediately crossed her arms. Her bottom lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout, and I resisted the temptation to laugh harder. Instead, I knelt down to her level and met her hazel eyes. “Well Ms. Brianna, you do know glitter isn’t a color, right?” Behind her, I noticed Cody was smiling.

“Is too! That’s what makes it the best color!” she exclaimed as she placed her hands on her hips and smiled triumphantly at me. Any response I had was drowned out by the baggage carousel’s buzzer signaling the arrival of our items. I stood up and took a single step toward the carousel before Cody held out a hand to stop me.

“Stay here Lexi. I can grab our bags.” He stepped back to look at us for a moment. “Work out dinner. I’m starving.”

“You’re always hungry!” Brianna called out to his back as he walked away. She followed him and somehow managed to clamber onto his back. He didn’t even teeter under the weight.

This left me standing next to his mother Fiona. She watched her kids with a fond smile, but talked to me anyway. “It is nice to finally meet you. Cody speaks quite fondly of you.” She met my eyes then, and they held an understanding I couldn’t place. “You don’t need to be so formal here. Please, feel free to relax. We’re not here to judge you.” Why was she trying to put me at ease? It is only natural to be formal when meeting someone. I made a conscious effort to relax my stance nonetheless and shift my smile into something more genuine.

I gestured toward Brianna and Cody who at this point had retrieved the bags and was making his way toward us through the crowd. “She’s a bundle of energy, isn’t she?”

There was a sadness to her voice when she told me, “Yes, it’s rare for her, actually. It’s… a relief to see.” Her brows furrowed into a more serious expression. “Don’t mention her weight or color, please. She can get self-conscious about it.”

Before I had a chance to ask her a question to clarify, Cody returned, luggage dragging behind him and Brianna still clinging tightly to his shoulders. She dropped down and at least managed to wait until I took my luggage handle from Cody before grabbing his hand.

Their mom simply shook her head and smiled before maneuvering toward the exit. The chat to the car and car to the restaurant was filled with comfortable small talk. Mostly Cody’s mom and sister catching up with what was going on in his life. We ended up eating at a lower end sit down restaurant, where the questions were directed more toward me. There wasn’t much to be said as far as I was concerned. They asked about my family (parents are divorced, no siblings), what my childhood was like (there was a specific… event when I was 5, but that is so private Cody doesn’t know about it. Of course there were my personal experiments with my heraldry, but that’s a secret from both his family and mine). Somewhere along the way, Cody mentioned I started Yale at 16, so there was some explanation concerning how I skipped two grades. His mom was gentle in her questioning; she never pushed when I seemed uncomfortable (I knew when I was uncomfortable, but how did she?). I suspected there would be more intense questioning from his sister later on. Shortly after the restaurant’s warm colors and dim lighting enveloped us, his sister started slowing down. She was practically dozing by the time we were done eating, and she ate relatively little of her own food. Neither Cody nor Fiona looked bothered by this; she simply packed it up for later. I was confused why Fiona ordered a to-go dinner for her husband (couldn’t he pick up his own if he wanted it?) but didn’t question it. All in all, it was… fun in a way. Certainly not relaxing, but enjoyable.

The drive from Richmond to Cody’s childhood home was roughly half an hour. It was mostly spent in a comfortable silence, since no one seemed willing to risk waking up Brianna. I assumed I would end up with her in my lap, but there was a little makeshift bed in the back of the SUV (a little out of date, considering it was six years old). That explained why we strapped our luggage to the roof rather than putting it in the car. As a result of these circumstances, I sat in the backseat by myself. It was well worn, stains obvious on the seats and floors. There was a large first-aid kit underneath the passenger seat, but I simply chalked that up to another piece of his sister’s medical puzzle that no one had filled me in on yet. It was impeccably clean otherwise.

I primarily spent the drive staring out the window. Virginia’s geography was definitely different than New York’s. There was a familiarity with all roads that brought me comfort. Even without playing around with my magic, it was hypnotic. I’m not sure at what point in my childhood I began messing with magic on road trips, but it was comforting now to reach out when we were passing a car or being passed. The flickers of thoughts and emotions (nothing coherent enough to understand what they were thinking or even who they were) were interesting, and there was a contentedness to be found in the fact human minds everywhere all felt essentially the same even if they are radically different in every other way imaginable.

I was sitting behind the driver (Fiona), so I could easily observe Cody in the passenger seat. Ever since he threw himself into my life (and that’s a story for a different time), he had always been a stalwart rock. He was immovable in his convictions, and his loyalty ran deeper than anything I’ve ever seen. His Irish heritage was noticeable, his nose being straighter and a touch longer than most. He was also pale, almost ivory, with coffee bean colored hair. For whatever reason, he kept it around two inches long, so it was always too short to sit down flat. His baby blue irises contrasted against their subtle oriental tilt. Based off the fact his mother looks european, I assumed the slight asian seen in him comes from his father (Korean, I think he said at some point). He was thin but in the compact way runners are, a leftover from his high school cross-country track days. He might not exercise to that same degree now, but he makes a point to maintain his shape. He’s just a year older than me at 19, but we frequently trade off who’s the more mature depending on the circumstances. For all his steadfastness concerning his values, he was also… gentle in a lot of ways. He felt deeper than most, and he was easily moved to compassion. I may not understand that part of his nature, but I can appreciate it.

When we were about five minutes out from his home, Brianna started stirring in the back. She climbed over the backseat (how agile is this child anyway?) and buckled up without being told. She was still a little bleary eyed but definitely waking up. She didn’t actually perk up until we pulled into the driveway, but she practically danced out the car and down the driveway. We climbed out, and Cody left me to survey the area while he unloaded the car’s roof (I guessed he knew I prefer knowing my surroundings. I do, but it didn’t occur to me until that point he figured that out).

The house was cute in a way. The sun creeped out from behind the clouds on the way here, and the warm light painted the house in the yellows of a sun just beginning to set. A large hickory tree provided a cool shade for the front yard. Orange bricks covered the house’s sides, and slate grey roof shingles gave the house a modern but homey look. I couldn’t tell from where I was standing if the house had skylights or a second floor. The front door had a veranda, and they even had a porch swing and bench set out. His mother had obviously carefully planted the flowers in front of the veranda, as they were expertly spaced out and provided a splash of reds and purples.

Despite her excitement to run inside the house, the door was locked, and Brianna bounced up and down on the patio waiting for her mom to catch up. Apparently this girl had two speeds: dead stop or 60 miles an hour. I had just decided to step forward and help Cody carry our bags when Fiona managed to pull the door open, and a rather large dog dashed out. It ran straight for Cody and nearly knocked him over in its excitement (there appears to be a theme of him nearly being knocked over by his family). For his part, Cody was all smiles and bent down to let the dog lick him (ew, no). I think it was a golden retriever, german shepherd mix, and its head easily reached my waist. Once the dog had finished licking Cody, I was its next target. I underestimated how heavy this dog was and fell over with a rather unfeminine “oof” when it jumped on me. Cody (the traitor) cracked up laughing.

His mom didn’t seem the slightest bit moved at my plight as she called out, “Y’all coming in or not?”

“Nah, I figured I’d just lie here and soak up the sun, you know? Maybe collect enough dog hair for a winter coat,” I grumbled loudly as I shoved the dog off and finally managed to stand up (The spit. So much of it. Why do people tolerate such nonsense?).

Cody (the consistent traitor) simply laughed harder, and there was a laugh like bell chimes from the porch. His mom, I think. I glared daggers at Cody before picking up my stuff and heading for the door. Cody called the dog to follow us in (Dakota, apparently).

I stepped inside and was immediately overcome by the smell of lilac and other floral scents. As if the smell were coming from the walls, the paint in the front room was a gentle, light purple. The far wall had a large fireplace lined with various grey bricks and a white marble base. A few ashes escaped the half burnt logs inside. It was clearly used regularly which means someone in this house learned how to properly care for and clean the chimney. To the right of the fireplace stood a black, floor to ceiling bookshelf filled to the brim with various books. To the left in the room’s corner was a relatively large television, DVD’s stacked around it haphazardly and covering the bottom corners. The furniture centered around the TV and fireplace was pewter grey. I didn’t think they would mind if I walked on the sand colored carpet with my shoes on, but it seemed impolite. I left my wedges and luggage by the door and stepped further into the room.

I was going to continue scanning the room when Dakota ran in, knocked me out of the way, and curled up on the couch. I glared at it (Him? Her? Dakota is a gender neutral name), but it wagged its tail at me in response.

“I think she’s mocking you,” Cody whispered into my ear from behind, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I twirled around to smack him, but he swung up his hands in self defense. The traitor (this theme was growing old) started giggling. Giggling at me! I crossed my arms and was going to make some retort when I heard a squeaky laugh coming from a door to my side. Brianna was smiling ear to ear and standing in the doorway of what appeared to be the kitchen. Before I could decide how to respond, his mom appeared behind Brianna.

She was completely unphased by the psuedo-squabble going on when she stated, “As soon as Jun gets here, we’ll need to be ready to step out the door if we want a good spot for the fireworks. I’m going to pack a few things to take with us.” She motioned for Brianna to come help her but turned toward Cody. “Give Alex an actual tour and get her set in.” There was definitely an underlying meaning there.

Cody mumbled something about his mom ruining his fun before grabbing my luggage. That implies some weird things about previous situations and was definitely going to be addressed later. The other wall their TV leaned on held a large open door to the kitchen and to the left of that was an opening to a hallway. That is where Cody led me.

“First door on the left is the bathroom; I’ll get back to that in a sec. First door on the right is my old room where you’ll be staying.” I followed him into the room. It had obviously been stripped of most of his personal belongings. The walls were azure, and the twin bed was covered in a navy blue comforter. Cody shut the door behind me, and I turned around to raise a quizzical eyebrow in his direction. He sighed and rubbed the back of his head, motioning for me sit down on the bed pushed against the far wall.

“Listen. I didn’t think to mention it before, because I’m just sort of used to it. Brianna isn’t… frail. Don’t treat her like she’s breakable, because she’s not. She’s… uh…” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He was pacing a bit, and it was honestly unsettling me.

“Cody. I get it. She has some medical issue.”

He gave me a grateful smile before sitting on the bed next to me. “She has Addison’s disease. It’s why she tires so easily and why she’s darker skinned than anyone else in the family.” A dark expression crossed his face and disappeared before I had a chance to discern its meaning. I didn’t miss his hands tightening into fists in the bed spread. “Apparently other kids at her school have been teasing her about it. Saying…” He definitely censored himself there. “Says things like she’s adopted. Bree knows better, but I still… worry.”  
There was a beat of silence. A brush of my mind magic told me he was quelling anger. Partly to distract him, I asked, “Is that why you guys don’t have a ton of money? I know you mentioned previously that you were sort of middle class. I know your dad is a management engineer and should be paid pretty well.”  
He rubbed a hand against his face. “Yeah. She has to take hydrocortisone daily. That’s why there’s a gigantic first-aid kit in the car, and when you get to the bathroom, there’s an entire cabinet dedicated to her. We keep needles of the stuff around in case she has an Addisonian crisis. I know mom and dad have been thinking about looking into whether Dakota could be a service dog for her.”

“Should I know how?” I asked, just to be sure.

“No. You won’t be around long enough, and I doubt you’ll be around my sister alone for long during this trip. If we were hanging around for a week or more, I’d consider it. Not like it’s hard to figure out.” He sounded sad. Or maybe defeated was more accurate. “The two bedrooms at the end of the hall are her bedroom on the right and the master bedroom on the left. Probably not necessary to surround her bedroom like that, but there were a lot of scares when she was younger, when we were still figuring this stuff out.” I simply nodded. I couldn’t tell if he needed comfort or someone to listen, so I kept quiet. We sat in silence for a few minutes, ruminating in our thoughts. I took the moment to look around the room more. The carpet was black and gave under my foot even if it could be softer. There were a few sparse book cases against the wall, and a desk to the right of the bed. A window over the desk let in the orange sunset.  
My observations were disrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Cody vigorously rubbed his face with both hands before standing and offering a hand toward me.

We stepped into the living room to the sight of his sister yet again climbing another human being. Really child? It is possible to hug people without climbing them. I still felt a smile make its way to my face though.  
“I think your sister’s a spider,” I said to the room in general. Cody actually snorted, and even his dad huffed out a small laugh.

“I normally go for monkey, but that works too.” His dad’s voice was a light tenor. Jun was definitely oriental. Eyes aside, his skin was distinctly peach and hair a coarse black. His chocolate brown eyes did have several laugh lines, but there were definitely worry lines across his brow. He carried himself with a tired confidence which only did so much for his stature, since he was about the same height as his wife. The dark purple colored shirt and black slacks helped. He turned his back to the couch and set his daughter on its back.  
“Give me a few minutes. I need to put on something more comfortable.” He smiled at me while passing us on the way to the bedroom.

His mother motioned for us to follow her back into the kitchen. Between the four of us left, packing the car took little time. That’s not to say there was much to pack. Fiona had collected a few snacks, drinks, and a couple blankets. The greatest difficulty lied in making room for the supplies in the back (you can't strap food to the roof, I suppose). When the dad came out dressed in old blue jeans and a (mildly holey) grey T-shirt, there was a mild debate as to who would sit where. Neither of his parents wanted to drive to the designated ball park hosting the fireworks show, so Cody and I had a brief discussion over who should drive. I am perfectly capable of driving in an unfamiliar area in an unfamiliar car, but Cody won via familiarity with the area anyway (his sister found our semi-argument particularly hilarious for some reason). I was uncomfortable with Cody and I being in front with Fiona, Jun, and Brianna in the back, but no one else batted an eye.

The conversation there was again easy-going, primarily Jun discussing his day with his wife then explaining to me exactly what he did (I already knew, but there is something to be said for learning about a job from the inside). The last ten minutes of the drive was spent trying to find a parking spot, but the couple blocks we ended up walking was comfortable enough.

The park was alive, families and couples walking, adults and children alike goofing off on the playground near the baseball park where the fireworks would be shooting from. Lamps lined the sidewalks, and food trucks further lit the area. It was hot, but the breeze was pleasant. The sunset washed everything in reds and oranges, painting the sky in a myriad of colors on its march to the dark blue of night.

We settled into a spot, laying out a blanket for comfort at around 8:15. On the way, I thought we would be arriving there unnecessarily early (not like I would know, I’ve not exactly done this sort of thing before), but it worked out perfectly. The park was busy, but relatively few had settled down to claim a spot. We had an hour to relax before the show started. Brianna settled cross-legged on the blanket’s edge. The rest of us were in a rough line, Fiona and I on the ends with the Cody next to me and his dad between him and Fiona. It was maybe five minutes before Brianna started acting antsy, bouncing her leg and looking around excitedly. Her parents agreed she could go play with other kids on the strict condition she stay within direct line of sight.

There were a few silent moments before a question occurred to me. Brows furrowed slightly, I asked, “Cody, where are you sleeping? We just sort of left your stuff by the door.”

He tilted an eyebrow in my direction, “The couch.” I opened my mouth to argue, but Cody beat me to it. “It’s fine Lex. I don’t mind the couch.”

“It is literally your home and your bedroom,” I retorted. 

“Even if he didn’t offer, I would have made him. So don’t worry about it. It’s only the polite thing to do.” Jun gave me a kind smile. I know he was trying to be reassuring, but that didn’t explain anything. I was the intruder there, so I should have been the one sleeping in an unconventional area. I didn’t want to be rude and continue pushing the point though. Speaking of rude, it occurred to me I never actually introduced myself to his dad.

Turning enough to hold a hand in his direction, I corrected that situation. “Alexandra Carbonell, by the way. Should I call you Mr. Ashton or Jun?

“Jun please. Mr. Ashton makes me sound old.”

“Weellll…” Cody started.

“No, I am not old until Brianna leaves for college.”

“Is Fiona younger, then?” Curbing my curiosity was never a strong suit of mine.

I was relieved when she laughed good-naturedly. “Three years, so I guess that means I will be old three years after Bree graduates high school.”

A beat of silence. Maybe I was tired or something, but I continued to pursue answers for various questions which had crossed my mind. I suppose they had asked enough questions that I felt comfortable asking my own. So I asked away. How Fiona and Jun met. Asked about their marriage, how it was raising Cody (and I got a few embarrassing stories from that question). In quieter voices, we discussed the difficulties in raising Brianna (who had run out of energy to play tag so was playing some sort of hand game instead) and what it was like for Cody to have a sister at all (sibling dynamics are interesting). They tried to dig into my childhood again, and his father didn’t back down so easily.

“It really wasn’t that interesting of a childhood. Jumping grades twice didn’t do much for my social life, so I spent more of my time reading. Although model kits would entertain me for a while. For a long time growing up, I wanted to be an engineer.”

“You don’t anymore?” Fiona asked softly. She was constantly gentle with me, and I didn’t understand why.

“People became more interesting to me as I got older. I found it intriguing to study my classmates, figure out how to get in their good graces. So eventually I moved on to psychology, one of my two majors. Politics being the other.”

“That’s an interesting combination. What do you hope to do with that?” Jun asked honestly. I thought for a moment then shrugged. Not because I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but because I didn’t know how to explain it. Saying I planned on fighting for herald rights might have made them suspicious, and I wasn’t willing to risk that. Not until I knew I could tell people what I was without risking arrest. Cody shot me a knowing look, and I glowered in response.

“Don’t give me that look Cody. I’m at least declared.” That’s not what his look was hinting at, but his parents didn’t need to know that. Not that it worked actually, based off the disbelieving tilt of his dad’s head. I panicked for a fraction of a second. My words caught in my throat while my mind worked out a crisis of conscious. These are Cody’s parents. Theoretically if I can trust him, I should be able to trust his parents. But I just. Don’t. Know. Them. Using my magic was tempting, but I quickly dismissed it. These people are deserving of genuine human connection. While I could theoretically manipulate them into forgetting the question or encourage an acceptance of my answer, I could never do that and still be able to look Cody in the eye.

“Why do you do that?” Bree chimed in (when did she even return?), and I jerked back, visibly flinching. I sucked in a breath which was clearly heard by everyone, and the flutter of panic in my chest didn’t calm so easily this time. Saying I wanted power, while true, sounds awful without context. I could say I wanted to make socioeconomic improvements for the socially disenfranchised, but that didn’t sit right either.

I opened my mouth to say that anyway when Fiona interrupted.“You’ll have to be more specific, baby girl.” That’s… a fair point. I didn’t actually know what she was trying to ask in hindsight.

Brianna kept looking back and forth between Fiona and I as if she couldn’t decide who to talk to. She continued to switch as she explained, “You pause whenever someone asks you a question or even when you enter a new room. There’s a few kids who do that at school too, and I’ve never understood.”

Fiona didn’t look at me when she asked, “Well, why do you think your fr-... classmates do it?” Friends? Has Bree actually lost friends over the bullying?

She knitted her brows together and pondered for a good minute. “I know they don’t have the best of home lives… Maybe something to do with that?” She shook her head before turning fully to her mother, her hands swung wide. “But Alex is an adult! And she’s smart and she isn’t broken like me.” Cody didn’t hide his flinch nearly as well as her parents did. “That means she has money, right? So she shouldn’t have to worry about that sort of thing.”

“Abuse isn’t exclusive to children or the rich, Bree.” Fiona stated plainly. I pushed down the swell of emotion in my chest. That’s not what I am. What I was. Indignation, fear, and sadness all warred for a brief moment before I slammed down a wall around those reactions.

Cody frowned at his mother, “Mom, I don’t think…” He stopped, and I felt a similar swell of emotions from him. I closed my eyes. I shouldn’t listen in on his thoughts. But oh did I want to know what he was thinking in that moment.

The silence was temporarily deafening. A twitch in my legs brought my thoughts away from my heart and toward the physical situation. I quelled the trembling in my hand and watched the bustling crowd make themselves comfortable. Distantly, I realized the sun had set, and we were now lit only by the park lights.

It was Jun who broke the silence. “We should get comfortable. They’ll be starting soon, I think.” Brianna nodded numbly. I couldn’t help picking up on emotions at that point, shaken up as I was (but didn’t want to admit).

She sat down on the edge of the blanket, and sure enough, the announcement system buzzed angrily shortly thereafter. The sudden darkness following the lamps shutting off was initially disconcerting, but it lended the first fireworks more punch. The fireworks were a welcome distraction from the storm threatening my mind. Every other time I’d ever seen fireworks, it was always in the comforts offered to the well-to-do, at the very least padded seats that easily leaned back. It was a different experience from the ground. Perhaps it was because everyone was on the same level.

I squeaked when Brianna rolled back and plopped her head into my lap. I stared, but she didn’t seem to notice me or the quiet chuckles of amusement that her other family members made. Why me? She’s clearly missed Cody, so shouldn’t she be attached to him? I shot Cody a look, and his smile told me not to question it. So I didn’t. I leaned back on my hands and continued to watch the sky sparkle, fighting the temptation to startle at the louder explosions.

I have no idea how she managed it, but Bree fell asleep at some point and managed to stay asleep through the finale. Poking her cheek caused her to stir enough to recognize she needed to move. While the parents cleaned up, Cody offered her a piggyback ride to the car, but she adamantly refused, stomping her foot to emphasize her point. She didn’t want a ride from him, she wanted a ride from me, and that confused me to no end. Nonetheless I acquiesced. Unsteadily, I carried her back to the car with her family. We piled back in, parents in the front and kids in the back. Brianna refused to sit up and lean against the car to sleep, so eventually she ended up sprawled across our laps. Conversation was barely above a whisper (I’m not sure why, considering she slept through fireworks). It was easy conversation, until they asked the question I knew they would ask; I still didn’t know how to answer despite predicting it a while ago. Or rather, the questions came as a statement.

“You two make an adorable couple,” Fiona complimented, a smile bringing wrinkles to her eyes.

Cody, traitorous tendencies rising again, barked out laughter while I silently cringed.

“No, mom, no way in hell,” Cody managed to squeak out between laughs.

“What, why? You’re so cute together,” Jun stated this time.

I scowled at Cody, “I’m not sure he has a romantic bone in his body.” Cody started making weird noises as he struggled to breathe around his giggles. I raised my hands in a “what” gesture. It’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, but I’m just not attracted to him in that way. But was the laughing really necessary? “Cody, will you stop that? I wouldn’t be a bad person to date.”

He calmed down a bit. “I’m not saying you would be, dry nature aside. It just…” He wrinkled his nose. “That would be like dating my sister.”

“Are you calling me immature? Or your sister dry?” I did my best to scowl threateningly at him. Although he had a point. Maybe that’s what made me so uncomfortable with the thought of dating him. I didn’t have knowledge of what having a sibling was like, but I felt his older brother tendencies from day one.

“I don’t intend on letting you out of my life any time soon, but that’s just not our relationship. We’re more like… I don’t know, platonic.”

I nodded, “I suppose so.” I directed my attention back to his parents. “We’re simply not those kind of people, I guess.”

From the driver’s seat, Jun simply nodded. Fiona seemed satisfied, and the conversation carried on. I wondered out loud where the name Ashton came from, since Jun is clearly Asian and that isn’t exactly an Asian name. He explained he was disowned when he told his family he was going to marry a non-Asian, so he took Fiona’s name. I tried to express condolences, especially since I understood on a personal level how devastating that could be. However, he waved my concern aside stating it was old news. The conversation continued at a similar second level depth all the way back to the house. It was easily 10:30 by the point, so everyone settled in for the night after a brief explanation concerning where I could find anything I might need.

1 a.m. found me staring at the envelope my mother had given me. I wanted to give the Ashton’s a gift, a thank you for housing me and raising my best friend so well. I had the distinct feeling that by the time we left, I would be grateful for a lot more. Which made the gift all the more complicated. I knew they financially struggled on occasion, even if I didn’t know why at the time. Rosalind would have given me the money if Cody had met her standards, but I knew he wouldn’t. This gift meant a great deal to me, and I wanted it to happen either way. So I agreed to the loan instead.

Now that I had seen their home, how they live, I couldn’t stop the gnaw of worry that Mr. and Mrs. Ashton would be offended by the gift. They’ve worked so hard for what they have. The ten thousand dollars cash meant nothing to my family, but to his? I had no idea. I didn’t want anyone in his family to think it a gift of pity.

Over the next three days there, I came to a conclusion. These people were kind, understanding on a level I never saw from either of my parents. So, I resolved to write a note explaining my situation, how my family is, why I wanted to help, and what the gift meant to me. If they questioned it further, I was sure Cody would be able to help them understand me and my nature. When Cody and I fixed to leave on the third day, I rested ten handwritten pages on top of the envelope, placing them out in the open on Cody’s old desk.

I left, hoping they would understand.

**Author's Note:**

> In general, I like the style of this story a lot more. I think first person might be sticking around.
> 
> Chapter 2 will be all about Cody's house and family which is a lot more fun than Lexi's.


End file.
